Parachute
by Ms.Yazzy
Summary: It's six months after the invasion. Isabelle Fields tries to survive and makes sense of the world that is now inhabited by Skitters and Mechs. Her journey leads her back to Boston, the city she once called home. While on a raid for food, she runs into Hal Mason, a blast from her past. Will she finally find peace and purpose for living within him and the 2nd Mass? Hal/OC. On Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Skies or any of its characters. I only own my OCs.**_  
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**A/N: The story takes place parallel to the first episode of the show. Isabelle and her gang are all OCs characters, some regulars, others recurring. I apologize in advance if I've portrayed Boston wrongly. I'm not from Boston, I'm not from the States period. It's a Hal and OC story. **

**Read, enjoy, review. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated.**

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_Entry 3,_

_The wait is killing me. They have been gone for at least three hours. Or is it four? I can't tell. There's no way to tell time anymore. I don't think sending Shane and Danny was the best idea. One of them is trigger-happy and the other is a coward. Bo will have his hands full._

_We're planning on getting out of Boston very soon. As soon as we secure enough supplies to last us for a while. The cockroaches and their robots are crawling in this city. They even set up base here._

_I used to live here. It's hard to see the city completely destroyed and corpses littering the ground._

_Today we searched and destroyed only two of them. We had to retreat when two mechs surrounded us. Danny had been more than happy to be done with it. It was his turn to play bait._

_It's another house again. This one is dilapidated, tucked away in a dead street. From the looks of it, the neighborhood had probably been bombed during the initial invasion. I wonder who used to live here? Where they alive? Or like the majority of the people, dead?_

_Sasha and Chaz are playing cards by the candle light. They I asked me if I wanted to join them but I declined. I'm too worried, too anxious to concentrate. And no one can beat Chaz at cards, not even Bo. So I'm writing, to keep my wits about me. We can't afford a mental breakdown now. I don't even know why I'm doing this. Hopefully, if we're able to survive this, and humans don't go extinct, maybe someone will pick it up. You never know, I could become the Anne Frank of this generation._

Isabelle stopped writing, ball point hovering over the page as she chewed her lower lip. The enormity of the situation hit her full force. During the course of six months, they haven't met any other survivors. Except the two friends in New Jersey but they were gunned down by the mechs. It was only the six of them in the world for all they knew. Maybe documenting their lives was important, historical even.

Taking a deep breath, she put the pen back on the notebook.

_It's a little over six months after the invasion. It doesn't seem like the aliens are going to leave any time soon. We're not even sure what they want. Colonization? Imperialism? Danny has a theory that the aliens are here to obliterate the entire human species. Any other time I'd agree with him, but the cockroaches didn't kill children. They captured them and put some sort of harness on their backs, having complete access to their brains. The word slavery comes to mind. But why only children?_

The distant purring of motor engines drifted into the dark house. Everyone paused in their actions, ears perking at the sound. Chaz got to his feet swiftly, grabbing his shot gun in the process. Isabelle closed the journal and placed it on her back bag.

"Finally," Sasha whispered. "Took them long enough."

Isabelle nodded at the older, tougher woman. Chaz had moved to the front of the house, peeking through the cracks of the door. The purring got louder and louder until it abruptly stopped outside the house.

He swore loud enough for the two girls to hear. "Shane is hurt." He ripped the door open and Isabelle moved out of the way, nails digging into her palm.

_Please, not tonight. No deaths tonight._

Bo and Danny were both carrying the injured man, their faces red from exertion. Shane was moaning in pain, his left leg soaked in crimson. Isabelle averted her gaze and dashed into the living room, swiping the small table clean of an assortment things, sending them cascading to the floor. The dust settled in her nose and irritated her eyes.

"What the hell happened?" Chaz wanted to know. Sasha re-entered the room and handed Isabelle one end of a relatively clean looking bed sheet and together they covered the dirty table.

"_Shane_ happened," Danny replied in an irritated voice. "He fired on a reptilian bastard and alerted the mechs."

They placed the whimpering man on the table and stepped back as his sister assessed the damage. Isabelle shone the flash light on the wound, swallowing back the bile that rose in her throat.

In hopes of distracting herself, she looked to the ex-bouncer and their designated leader, Bo. "What took you so long?"

Bo was busy taking inventory of his weapons. "Every store from here to Allston were picked clean. We had to go to Jamaica Plains."

Her eyes widened. "You went to Jamaica Plains? Are you insane? I thought the plan was to raid only in the west."

"It was," Danny told her, arms flailing as he expressed his displeasure. "But when we figured that there was little to no supplies to salvage, these idiots thought taking a joy ride like couple of teens on motorbikes through south Boston was worth the risk. Well, it wasn't. It was an ambush. And now, there," He jabbed his thumb to Shane's direction. "Won't probably last another day. I told them. But no one listens to me."

"Actually, he will." They all turned to the Sasha. "The bullet's lodged in his femuris muscle. It's not a through and through so he'll be alright once I get it out." She let out a shaky breath, resting her head against her older brother's shoulder. Shane patted her back awkwardly.

Chaz cleared his throat and asked,"Did you manage to bring anything back?"

"Does our lives count?" Danny questioned bitterly.

Bo shook his head. "Nothing."

"Well, tomorrow's a whole new day," Isabelle began but bit her tongue when she noticed the look Danny was sending her.

"We've to move out tomorrow," Bo declared, his voice reverberating all over the house. "When Shane's stable we leave, head south. This place is crawling with them and I don't think we can go unnoticed anymore."

Isabelle caught Chaz's eye and he nodded his assent. They were staying with the group. Again.

Sasha had shot up her brother with a strong dose of morphine, knocking him out. She started ripping the denim around the wound. There was a huge, gaping hole in his thigh, blood bubbling and freely flowing out of it. Isabelle's hands shook. Sasha gave her a knowing look.

"Chaz, replace her," she ordered. Feeling pathetic, she slapped the flash light in the blond's open palm. He grabbed her elbow when she passed him.

"You gotta get over it," he whispered, eyes sharp and tone harsh.

She yanked her arm back and he let go. "I'm trying my best."

"Try harder."

"Chaz, I need light."

With a parting glare, he turned to the table and held the flash light over his head. Isabelle went over to the spot she had occupied earlier and picked up the journal. She could hear Danny's ranting and Sasha soft voice but they were just back-ground noise. Her mind was occupied else where. On her own short-comings. Chaz was right. He was _always_ right. He was the type of person who lays down cold facts on the table and if you were too thick or blind to see it, he'd beat you with it and shove them down your throat until you understood.

She relied on him to kick her ass into gear.

Sighing, Isabelle grabbed her bag and stuffed the journal inside. She approached Bo who was cleaning his gun. "So we're moving out tomorrow, huh?"

He made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat that she took as a yes. The man spoke as little as possible.

"But we're dangerously low on food," Danny pointed out.

"I guess a few of us have to go back and scavenge," Bo muttered.

Danny ran his hand through his unruly hair. "Now? In the dark?"

"I'll do it."

Both men stared at Isabelle with raised eyebrows and surprised expressions. Isabelle was sure her face mirrored theirs. She had no idea what possessed her to say that, but she had already done it and well, she couldn't take it back.

Danny let out a bark of laughter. "Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, I'm kidding you Daniel," she retorted sarcastically. " That's me, Miss. Kidder."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, babe. All I'm sayin' is that it's a mad world out there and if you think the place is creepy in daylight, you will shit your pants when the sun goes down. Now these guys," He gestured to Bo and Chaz and an unconscious Shane "they might be gung-ho and all but you and I are the sane ones. Don't let there stupidity rub off on you."

Opening her mouth to explain to the short Wall-street accountant her reasons, Bo beat her to it. "Are you sure about this, Isabelle?"

She thought about it for a few seconds. "No," she answered him honestly. "But I want to. I mean, someone's gotta do it. And I know what's it's like outside, and I know that there's a high chance I might not make it back alive every time I set a foot outside the door but, sooner or later, death's gonna come a'knocking." The last part was a dig directed at Danny. He narrowed her eyes at her but said nothing.

Bo understood. "Fine."  
"Count me in," Chaz spoke from across the room, jaw stuck out in determination. He offered Isabelle a small smile. Chaz rarely smiled.

"Alright." Bo rubbed his hands together. "Chaz, Isabelle and I will get going. We'll try north and east of downtown. We'll probably get lucky in Charlestown." He glanced at Shane. "How's it going over there?"

"So far so good," Sasha reassured them. "I got the bullet out and the bleeding has stopped."

"Great. And Daniel, you are staying."

"You make it sound as if it's a punishment."  
"If we don't make it by daylight" Bo carried on, ignoring his earlier statement. "Gear up, take the truck and supplies and leave. We'll rendezvous at the other side of Longfellow bridge."

Isabelle felt her heart contract painfully at the thought of going to Cambridge. Her home before moving to Seattle. Did anyone she know survive the invasion? The image of dark hair, hazel eyes and devilish grin sprung from her memories causing a familiar burn behind her eyes. She cleared her throat, blinked the tears furiously away and glanced at Danny.

She studied the older man nervously as he went through five different emotions in three seconds flat. In the end he settled for reluctant acceptance. He nodded curtly, for once not speaking what really was on his mind.

"Bo, maybe you should sit this one out," Sasha suggested, her back towards them. "You've been at it for the past two days. At the rate you're going, you might snooze on the bike and kill yourself."

"She's right," Isabelle agreed. "You should really rest. Chaz, Danny and I can manage."

"Wait-what? Why does he get to rest while I get thrown to front lines?"

"Maybe because while you're snoring your ass off, Bo's always on the look-out." Sasha faced Danny, a few strands of her dark curls matted against her forehead from the sweat. "And no offense, but personally I'll feel a helluva lot safer knowing that Bo's here, should any of those bastards decide to attack us."

Chaz agreed. "She's got a point."

"We need someone strong to hold down the forte," Isabelle pressed on.

The man ran a hand over his haggard face, weighing the pros and cons of the situation. Finally he agreed and much to Danny's dismay. He was constantly giving Isabelle the stink eye. Bo replaced Chaz at the table and started barking off orders to the three of them.

Isabelle picked her bag and rummaged through, take an inventory of all her necessities. Pocket knife. Check. Flash light and extra batteries. Check. Binoculars. Check. 9mm semi-automatic. Check.

"Take two grenades," Bo informed Chaz. "Leave the light fifty."

Isabelle could tell from the hardened edges of Chaz's mouth that he wasn't thrilled to let go of the sniper rifle. Sighing, he dropped the case on the floor with a loud_ thud_ before walking out of the room. Danny grumpily set about strapping himself up again.

Isabelle laughed to herself. Even though she was the youngest, somehow she was way more mature than him. She got ready, donning her jacket and gloves. She pulled her auburn hair in a tight pony tail and grabbed her bag.

Sasha grinned. "Lookin' kick-ass, princess." Then immediately sobered up. "Stay safe, okay."

Isabelle glanced around the house she had slept in for the past week and the people she grew to care about. Four months ago, she was hesitant to trust, to give in to them. She remembers the various long conversations she had Chaz and how he's do his best to convince her that this was the best option if they wanted to stay alive. And here she was, facing danger head on for them.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Take care of him," she said, gesturing with her head at Shane.

"You're ready to get blown to smithereens by alien robots?"

Isabelle spun on her heels, rolling her eyes at Danny in exasperation.

He scoffed. "Yeah. Thought so. Stupidity really is contagious."

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**A/N: So, whatcha think? Remember, honesty is the best policy.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: TNT owns Falling Skies. I only own what you don't recognize.**

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It was the unearthly silence that always got to her. The emptiness. Not the aliens, not the dead corpses or the extreme weathers.

It was emptiness. The stillness. The loneliness.

Isabelle remembers the times when she would complain about the crowded streets, Mrs. Dabney's barking bulldog, the punk rocker wannabes of her high school blasting The Clash songs at ear shattering levels.

And now, the only sound was the crunching of glass and pebbles under her boots, of Danny's shallow breathing, of Chaz's whispered orders. Six billion people, and nothing to show for that. Sometimes she think those who died months ago were the luckiest.

She glanced at Chaz. He was ahead of her, shot-gun firmly gripped and ready to kill. His blond hair was collected into his trademark small pony-tail at the base of his neck.

Isabelle jumped when she felt Danny's breath on her own neck and heard his voice say, "If you keep staring like that, you'll burn a whole through his head."

She was very tempted to elbow him in the gut but managed to resist the urge. She threw a dirty look over her shoulder. The older man just chuckled exposing a shocking white teeth underneath the dark beard.

"Were you staring at me, Izzie?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes at Chaz. "I was thinking."

"About me?" She could rather hear than see the smug smile in his voice.

"Yes. About how it would have been easier to die with the rest of them."

They walked in silence after that, each dwelling in their own thoughts. It's been almost two hours since they left the house and they have only one back bag of _dented_ canned beans and three pop-tarts. They needed more. At least two full bags. Danny as always wanted to return and make do with what they had. Chaz voted to push on and hopefully they got lucky. Isabelle stayed politically quiet, neither agreeing or disagreeing.

They were walking in what might have been the less prosperous neighborhoods of Charlestown. Their bikes were abandoned three miles away, tucked into the safety of a still upright garage. Isabelle carried her 9mm in a holster around her waist. In her jacket pocket was a Swiss Army pocket knife that belonged to her father. She knew she wasn't heavily armed but she took comfort in knowing two grenades were sitting in her back bag.

"You're right," Danny spoke, breaking the silence. "Surviving this is not a blessing. It's a curse."

Isabelle slowed her pace, waiting for him to catch up to her. When he did, she walked silently beside him. She didn't piece up his whole story but only enough to know that his thirteen year old daughter had been taken by the cockroaches and possibly harnessed.

It was easy to forget that Danny, like the rest of them had lost his loved ones. He might complain, he might hesitate and he might fear for his life, but Isabelle thinks that out of all of them, he had the strongest will to survive. That he had an _actual_ purpose for living in this hell-hole. His daughter.

"Did you guys know," Chaz began, his deep voice carrying in the dead of the night. "That the sense of smell connect to the part of our brain that controls emotions and memories." He faced them, walking backwards, a grin on his face. "That's why smokes often evoke memories."

Danny closed his eyes, concentrating. Isabelle silently laughed, shaking her head at their antics. It's always a game with them, some sort of competition. Sometimes they'd rope her and Sasha in. At times they enjoyed it. Other times it got ugly when the men got over-competitive. It was a nice way to kill time on patrol duty, or in their case, supply run.

Danny snapped his fingers, a gleeful smile on his face. "The science of kissing is called philematology."

Isabelle crinkled her nose. "Sounds disgusting. I prefer good ol' kissing."

"Yeah." Chaz wiggled his eyebrows. "When was your last kiss?"

The smile dropped from her face. Chaz noticed and winced.

"What?" It was Danny. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she mumbled.

"So who was it? The quarterback of your high school. Under the bleachers. Of was it in his convertible?"

She punched him on the shoulder. Hard. "Wrong on all three counts."

Isabelle's last kiss was at least two months before the invasion. By the captain of the lacrosse team. In her bedroom. She ran a hand over her face wearily and took longer strides, determined not to show the boys the emotions that rattled her. She didn't get far before Chaz's hand squeezed her shoulder.

"You okay, Izzie?"

She gave him a side-long glance. "Just remembering unpleasant things."

"Like?"

"Like the day I met you."

Chaz let his hand drop and glanced away. "What about it?"

"Right now," she said in a soft voice. "I'm not very grateful. Actually, I resent you for saving me. Both times."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed whatever he wanted to say. "Someday," he whispered.

"Huh?"

"Someday you'll be grateful, Izzie. I know it."

She looked into his eyes, unsure of herself. "You don't know that."

"Things will get better. You'll find something worth living for. And then you'll drop to your knees and kiss the ground I walk on."

The corners of her mouth quirked at his attempt on humor.

"Uh, guys."

They both turned back. Danny motioning towards a building across the street. Isabelle squinted at the dark, attempting to see through the dirty windows. Chaz tapped her shoulder and pointed to a vaguely familiar sign on top of the store. Number and letters. Seven. And...

"7 eleven," Danny whisper-shrieked.

Isabelle threw her hands in the air, as if in a prayer. "Oh, thank heaven."

"Guys! We hit the mother-fucking-load!" Danny crossed the street in a sprint. Chaz and Isabelle followed apprehensively. For all they knew, this could have been a trap. Like the one in Jamaica Plaines.

_"Danny!"_ Chaz hissed when the man grabbed the door handle. "We need to clear the area first. It could be a trap."

Seeing the sense in Chaz, Danny took a step back from the store and took his gun out of his shoulder holster. Isabelle copied him and stepped closer to Chaz, his solid body offering comfort. She knew she was too dependent on him, and though she hated herself for it, she couldn't help it.

Chaz was had been present in her lowest of lows. He saved her from herself twice and he didn't even know her. She jokingly called him her guardian angel. Chaz always seemed to know where she was and when she needed saving. It was eerie. And also comforting.

"Izzie, you stay here, guard the door." She nodded, fighting the dread that accumulated in her stomach. "Danny you take the left side, I'll take the right. If you see any of them bastards, fire a warning shot and get the hell outta there." He pointed at Isabelle. "Same goes for you." She nodded to show him that she understood.

The men went opposite directions, leaving Isabelle on the sidewalk. She peeked through the dusty window, cupping her hands around her eyes to see better. Aisles and aisles of products. She never thought she's be this ecstatic to go grocery shopping.

_More like shop lifting_.

"All clear," Danny announced when he reached her.

"All clear," Chaz announced too. He motioned with his head at the store. "Now, we've got to clear inside too. Make sure none of them aliens are layin' low, waiting for us."

He ripped his back bag open, took out three more magazines and tossed one to each of them. Isabelle stuffed hers in the pocket of her jacket. She dug for her flashlight, checked if it was working and awaited her orders.

"Each one takes an aisle, clears it and grabs whatever they find," Chaz told them. Danny nodded,moved to the door and pushed it open. Isabelle followed behind her, gun safely in her hands, her heart rate steady. As soon as she entered, she was bombarded with the smell of rotting meat and fruits. She heard Danny gag in front of her. She started breathing through her mouth, and shone the flash light on the floor ahead of her.

Danny pointed to himself and the first aisle. She nodded and carefully walked to the adjacent row. She stood at the mouth of the aisle, shining the beam of light all the way to the back and over the shelves. Nothing.

Isabelle let out a deep breath of relief and swiped her arm across her hairline, wiping the sweat away. Upon closer look, she was standing the in the snack section. Every kid's ultimate dream. Smiling to herself, she unfolded the empty duffel bag and rhythmically went about filling it with what would pre-invasion be categorized as junk but now called, nourishment.

Granola bars, chocolate bars, cookies, pop corns, tortilla chips, beef jerky. She let out a small laugh, not believing their luck. It was almost too easy.

It _was_ too easy.

Isabelle stopped and listened to her surroundings. She could hear the occasional "Oh God" and "Shit" and other expressions of excitement from her partners. Nothing else.

She might not have any training in military tactics, nor will she even entertain to pretend to know how the aliens mind work, but something was off. A fully stocked food store, unsupervised. That just didn't make any sense.

Hefting the fully loaded bag from the ground, she adjusted the straps and tested the weight. It was heavy, really heavy, but she could manage. Isabelle took a step when she heard the familiar metallic clanking and whirring of guns. The tiled floors of the store began to vibrate, sending products toppling over.

"Shit, shit, shit," she cursed as she sprinted to the back of the store, hoping against hope that there was a backdoor.

"No backdoor," Danny informed her through his panting. He carried his bag in his hand, gun in the other.

"S-so what do we do?"

"How should I know?" he snapped. He glanced around. "Where's Chaz?"

Isabelle didn't wait for him to follow. She raced down the aisles, ignoring the rising vibration announcing the imminent arrival of the Mech. "Chaz," she called out softly. "Chaz." When she got no reply, she yelled loudly.

A hand clamped over her mouth, stopping her. She whipped around and gazed into Chaz's icy blue eyes. They were intense. Not a hint of fear but determination. He pressed a finger to his lips and she nodded. He removed his hand.

"It was a trap," he stated.

"There's no backdoor," she informed him, her chest heaving more with fear than of lack breathing.

"Then we fight our way out and -"

A loud keening interrupted whatever Chaz had to say. Isabelle has learnt to associate that eerie noise with death and destruction. Danny took hold of her arm and dragged her down, out of sight.

"We can't fight them," Danny pointed out. "Mechs and those crawlies. We're clearly outnumbered."

"We've got to," Chaz insisted. "There's no other way."

"What about the four Rs, huh?" Danny countered. "Retreat, regroup, return and revenge. I thought you lived and died by that rule."

Two beams of light hit where they had been standing seconds before. They stayed silent, studying the beams as it moved all over. Isabelle wasn't surprised when Chaz took her hand in his and squeezed it in reassurance. In warning. She caught Danny eyeing them suspiciously.

It felt like hours before the Mech walked away, its footsteps receding. When the floor they were sitting on stopped vibrating, they all let out sighs.

Chaz let go of her hand on got to his feet. "We need to go. Whatever we have is more than enough."

"I second that," Danny muttered, sticking his hand out for Isabelle. She took it and he pulled her up along with her. "We can't afford another cripple tonight. Let's just get the fuck outta here and back to the others."

Chaz was standing at the check-out counter, frantically digging in his bag. Isabelle stood next to him. "What's wrong?"

"I can't find them. I could swear I put them in here!"  
"Put what where?" Danny wanted to know.

Chaz clenched his jaw, a tell-tale sign that he was either royally pissed off or frustrated. He raked a hand through his hair, letting few strands escape the pony-tail. "The grenades!" he nearly yelled. "I remember Bo tellin' me to leave the light fifty and to take the grenades. I remember plucking them out of- "

"You gave them to me," Isabelle interrupted him. "You're bag was full so you told me to hold onto them for you."

He stood still, recalling their conversation outside the house. He clutched his head and leaned his back against the check-out counter.

"Hand them over," he said wearily. Isabelle obliged. Danny was confused.

"Wait a minute! What are we still doing here? Why are you two swapping grenades?"  
Chaz put them in two pockets of his black cargo pants. "Precautionary measures," he explained. Isabelle finished stuffing his stash back into his bag and handed it to him.

_"Precautionary measures_?" Danny repeated as if it was a totally foreign concept to him. "I'll tell you what a precautionary measure is. Its putting helluva distance between us and this place in the shortest amount of time humanly possible. That's what I call precautionary measure." As he spoke, one hand gesturing wildly, he had emigrated closer to the door. "So if we were really smart, we should keep goin'."

Isabelle and Chaz shared an exasperated look. Chaz smiled at her and she rolled her eyes, adjusting the straps of her bag and grabbing her gun.

They heard Danny open the door as he kept on his ranting until it abruptly stopped, causing them to look over. Danny was pressed against the door by a grotesque creature, something of cross between a reptile and spider. It had one of its six arm against his neck, effectively choking him.

Isabelle didn't think, just reacted. She raised her hand, took aim and fired against the alien. The bullets didn't cause much damage but it let go of Danny.

"Go, Danny, go!" Chaz yelled at the man. The hideous creature was headed towards them. Chaz grabbed the back of Isabelle's shirt roughly, and shoved her towards back of the store. She stumbled a bit, got her bearings and rushed forward, Chaz right beside her. The hissing of the cockroaches sent her body to hyper-drive, adrenaline pumping in her system. They maneuvered through the aisles, all the way to the back. The cockroach had them boxed in and so together, they fire at it. The alien tried to shield itself from the onslaught of their fire. Sensing it, Chaz moved forward, firing away. Until his magazine emptied.

_Fuck_, Isabelle thought as she stepped up and emptied her second magazine at the alien. She kept pulling the trigger blindly, pulse accelerating with each bullet the gun ejected, her fear growing every second. Isabelle pulled the trigger but nothing came out. The alien hissed and launched at her. Isabelle let out an involuntary shriek as its pointy arms ripped at the skin on her arm. The pain was blinding, dropping her to the floor. She tried to not think of the hot liquid that was oozing out of her body.

_Not now, bitch! Get a fucking grip!_

The ground started vibrating again. A Mech was on its way. She blindly searched for her gun but couldn't find it. The alien was preparing to attack Chaz who kept fumbling with his shot-gun, his nerves getting the best of him. The thing leapt into the air and shoved him Chaz to the ground, standing over him.

"Chaz!" Isabelle cried out, desperately looking for any sort of weapon to use. She patted her pocket and felt the outline of her knife. She gripped it tightly, convinced that if she didn't do something, _anything_, the cockroach would kill Chaz. All she had to do was distract it long enough for Chaz to get a good head shot.

Gulping in a deep breath and ignoring the Mech that shattered all the windows of the store with a hail of gun fire, Isabelle let out a cry as she jumped on the alien and locked her legs around it. It bucked madly and let out a high-pitched shriek when she buried the knife deep into its eye. A sticky substance coated her fingerless gloves and just the thought of what it was, made her want to hurl.

One of its arm pierced her shin and she let go instantly, falling to the floor, whimpering in pain.

The cockroaches was blindly running around, slamming into walls and shelves and sending them crashing down. Isabelle watched surprised, as Danny stealthily made his way behind the wailing alien. He raised his shot-gun, put it against it head and fired.

Strong arms picked her up from the floor and carried her.

"I can walk," she whispered to Chaz. He put her down, eyes roaming over her body, assessing the damage. Danny jumped over the dead alien, picked up their discarded bag of supplies, handed Chaz his and slung Isabelle's over his shoulder and took hold of her hand.

She could walk but it was painfully.

_Suck it up, princess_, she thought.

"The Mech's inside the building," Danny informed them. Sure enough, the bipedal robot rounded the corner and spotted them. Isabelle watched in horror as its multi-laser target system locked on her and turned orange.

Chaz sent her crashing to the ground, the breath escaping her lungs completely when she fell hard. Before she could even comprehend what was happening, she was yanked off of her, and they were sprinting to the front of the store.

"The windows. Take the windows!" Danny yelled when Chaz and Isabelle made a turn to the door. Danny was already sailing through them, landed on the ground outside, not minding the broken shards of glass. She followed his lead, hissing when she scraped her knees and slammed her face painfully against the dirty asphalt.

Chaz, however, like a cat, landed on his feet. Danny urgently pulled her along. She followed him, limping. They turned back when they realized Chaz wasn't with them.

"What the hell man!"

Chaz stood facing the store. He pulled his arm back and sent something flying inside.

"Run!" Chaz shouted at them. "RUN!"

Isabelle didn't need to be told twice. Gulping in a lung-full of air, she stretched her legs and ran, keeping in pace with Danny. A deafening explosion shook the ground and they all ducked.

The arcid smell burnt Isabelle's eyes and her ears were ringing. Danny was wheezing, a coughing fit racking his body, from the debris or the physical exertion, Isabelle wasn't sure.

"Wanna see something beautiful?" Chaz asked them, his voice raspy. He held his hands out for both of them. Simultaneously, they took it and got up. Isabelle watched in fascinating awe as the Mech stumbled to the ground, fire licking every surface of its body. It sputtered, twitched like a living creature until its system crashed.

Just then another explosion erupted, this one distant, coming from somewhere north. They all glanced at each other, an unspoken question hanging between them. Gun fire ensued. A second blast of explosion.

"Call me crazy," Danny spoke. "But I don't think those outer space reptilian spiders are killing each other off."

"Humans," Isabelle said softly. She couldn't have hidden the hope in her voice if she tried.

An alien aircraft whizzed past them in the night sky. Isabelle watched it get smaller and smaller until it was out of sight. Just when she was about to suggest that they get the hell out of there, in the distant horizon, the sky turned a pale shade of blue, illuminating the night.

"Fuck," Chaz whispered, urgently grappling with his bags and holding Isabelle's elbow. She winced slightly feeling glass shards lodged in her skin.

"I'm outta here." Danny backed away, staring at the sky with wide eyes. "Looks like we pissed them off real bad. I, for one, won't stick around and wait for them to unleash their wrath upon us."

Isabelle was conflicted. Part of her wanted to run for the hills. Another part of her was curious, hopeful even, that there were survivors out there, like her and Chaz and Danny, fighting the aliens. Because that's the only explanation for the bombs and gun fires they heard.

"Izzie! We need to get movin'."

She nodded absent-mindedly and followed the men. Isabelle willed her heart to stop beating wildly against her chest.

Maybe they weren't alone. Maybe there were other people out there in the world. Out here in Boston. She smiled at the possibility.

"And you're welcome by the way," Danny told them snottily. "You know, for saving your lives."

"I'll drop by the gift store," Chaz retorted.

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, my friend."  
"Screw you, Fitzgerald."

Rolling her eyes, Isabelle hefted her bag and carried on walking down the dead and ruined streets of Boston, listening to her partners bickering and yapping about random and meaningless topics.

Somethings never change.

* * *

**A/N: So whatcha think? Read and review. They make my day.**

**Also, the events of this chapter is running parallel to the first episode, ''Live and learn''. I had my OCs scavenge in the vicinity of the 2nd Mass. If you've watched the first few minutes of the episode, you'll have no trouble recognizing it.**

**Oh and I took the liberty of using quoting Tom Mason twice. Care to guess which ones? It's so glaringly obvious but humor me peeps.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

__**Disclaimer: TNT and DreamWorks own Falling Skies. I'm only an obsessed fan.**

* * *

_ Entry 5,_

_I'm sitting at the back of an old rusty Chevy truck, keeping an injured Shane company. I don't mind it. Anyone beats being stuck in a vehicle for hours on end with Danny. Even a douche-bag._

"Seriously, Izzie, what the hell are you writing?"

"My thoughts," she replied curtly.

"Care to share them."

"No. They are private."

"I can share mine if you're interested." She glanced up from the book. Shane was sporting a cheeky grin. His doe eyes were roaming provocatively over her body. She narrowed her own threateningly.

"Actually," he carried on. "I'm willing to share them, like it or not."

She rolled her eyes. "Stop it or I'll punch you in your bullet hole."

"That sounds vaguely dirty, babe."

She couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped her mouth. The car suddenly jerked to the right and sent some of the cans that lay around them rolling around. Shane hissed in pain and clutched at his left thigh.

"You okay there?" Isabelle asked concerned. He nodded tightly then turned around and smacked the window hard.

"Stop driving like fuckin' drunk New York cabbie!" he hollered.

Isabelle's eyebrows shot to her hair-line when she heard Danny suggest that Shane perform something that was anatomically impossible in a rather colorful way. She tucked it in her mental file, sealed it away with a promise to use it next time Shane decided to sexually assault her verbally.

Isabelle turned to the left and raised her hand, waving it at Chaz who was riding his bike, flanking after their truck while Bo and Sasha went ahead, scouting for clear routes. Chaz waved back.

"So what's the deal between the two of you anyway?" Shane wanted to know. "You keep sayin' nothing but I don't buy it. Friends with benefits, it's that it."

Isabelle promptly ignored him and went to back to her journal. There was no clear way to explain the dynamics of their relationship. He was someone she needed, someone who kept her sane and alive. She owed him her life. Truthfully, the only thing keeping her alive at this moment, was Chaz. And she knew he'd make sure that she was there to repay him many years to come.

_Years_.

Could they even afford to think like that. To think of the future when every second of every minute of every day was a struggle to survive. They were all living on borrowed time. Death was hiding, bidding the moment it would sink its tentacles into one of them. Sometimes Isabelle felt it, in her bones, the inevitability of it all. Those days she tempted fate, throwing herself head first into any dangerous situation, battling it out with the monsters. Proving a point to herself, to others that maybe all the precautions and the hiding and the fighting was useless.

On those days Chaz sticks close to her, analyzing her every move.

_We have looked and waited, but we didn't find any other signs of humans. Maybe the aliens finished them off last night. Or maybe it was all wishful thinking on our part. Maybe an entirely different thing had gone down and we just assumed it was humans. I really hope that's not the case._

_The thought of just being the only ones alive is scary. Scarier than death and aliens. Living with the same five people day in and day out for the rest of my life is nerve-wrecking. I have nothing against them. They are amazing in their own special ways. I know they have my back like I have theirs. But if it is only us left in the whole country, the whole WORLD, then won't it be our responsibility to make sure that our species doesn't end. Doesn't that mean that -_

"Put that book aside and unbore me," Shane whined, nudging her with his good leg. "I mean, that's why you're here with me right?"

Isabelle slammed the book shut, frightened by the turn her thoughts and hand had taken. She turned to the young man. Shane Pierce, twenty three and owned a bar in the Big Apple before the invasion. When he wasn't shooting at aliens, being stitched up, or being a jerk, he pretty much kept to himself. It surprised her, that after four months together, she really didn't know much about him. Or the others for that matter.

_Rest of your life_.

Danny maneuvered the car around another pothole, this time jerking the car to the left. Isabelle was convinced that this was a passive-agressive way of him communicating with them. Danny constantly complained but what would he do if he was locked in a car by himself with no radio, while the two of them sat in the open trunk of the Chevy.

Annoy them.

"First of all," she began. "Unbore is not a word-"

_"Yet_. We could make our own rules now and -"

"And second of all, don't flatter yourself, Shane. I had a choice between having my ears bleed from hours long Danny rants or sit here, enjoy the air and sun and some down time quietly."

They stared at each other. Shane was smiling cockily, as if he knew something she didn't.

He clicked his tongue three times. "Izzie, you're not foolin' me. You could have taken the bike but instead you gave it to my sister. You want to be here. With me. You just don't know it yet."

She shoved away the hand that he placed on her thigh. "Ugh! Your ego is massive. How do you carry it? And this is sexual harassment. I'm practically jail bait. I could have you arrested if it weren't for the alien invasion."

He laughed, a sincere loud hoot in the air. "You're so uptight, babe."  
"Don't call me babe. I'm not your babe. I'm nobody's babe."

"It's a term of endearment," he drawled lazily. "And how old are you again?"

Isabelle brought here knees up to her chest and hugged them. She felt the stinging in her leg from the injury she sustained during the raid.

"Seventeen," she replied peevishly.

"I'm twenty-three so that means I'm only six years older than you." He wiggled his eyebrows. "But then again six is just a number. And age doesn't matter when it comes to love."

Isabelle stared at him, incredulous. "Love? To love you have to actually possess a heart. You don't. You're just horny because it's been, what, six months since you got any."

He nodded sagely, as if her words carried great wisdom. "True that. But I take care of...my needs every other time."

She gagged. "Too much info, man."

"And guess who I think of?"

Blood rushed up to her cheeks and neck and she flushed. Isabelle opened her mouth, ready to ream him in good but all that came out was air. Shane gestured a hand airly between them, an unselfconscious gesture that he had.

"Jennifer Aniston," he deadpanned, but his eyes glinted with mischief as he watched her trying to get herself in some semblance of normal. Isabelle tossed her hair over her shoulder, trying to act unaffected by the entire conversation.

Shane was enjoying himself. "Why? Where you expecting yourself? I thought you were against it all." He leaned forward, a patting her knee. "If it's any consolation, I did think of you once...twice."

Letting out a heavy and heartfelt sigh. "This conversation is officially over. Let's get back to normal, nonsexual topics. Like your life pre-invasion."

He blew at the strand of hair that fell into his eye. "What about it?"

She scooted closer to him, resting her back against the rusty metals of the car.

"How was it?"

Shane shrugged one shoulder, face shutting down. "It was good."

Isabelle pressed on. "How did you get the bar?"

He tilted his head towards her, his expression mildly amused. "Why do you wanna know?"

It was her turn to shrug. "Morbid curiosity, is all," she replied, adopting a nonchalant tone. Or what she hoped it was.

Shane chuckled softly. "My uncle Jason handed it to me before he died. As soon as he figured he had cancer, he handed his will to his lawyer and then out of the blue, I get a call and boom, the keys and the place are under my name." He stayed silent for a while, stuck in some reverie. Isabelle averted her eyes to the road in front her, to Chaz who had his eyes narrowed at them questioningly.

"So you get the bar and Sasha goes to college," she prompted him.

Shane combed his finger through the unruly mop of dark hair. "We come from a big family. Like real big. Our father made marriage an Olympic sport. Our mother, she was wife number five." He raised his palm and showed her five fingers for emphasis. "Also divorcee number five. Anyways, there were like seven of us. All boys except for Sasha who was also the youngest. I was the second youngest and my father's greatest disappointment."

Maybe it was his voice- small, unsure and sad as opposed to his usual light one - or the lost and defeated expression on his face, but something tugged at her heart and chipped away at the metal armor she had carefully built around her.

Shane laughs, but it lacks humor. "He wanted me to rise above the shadows of my brothers, to take over his business. Do you know what his business was?"

Isabelle waited, thinking it was a rhetoric question. When his blazing eyes were steady on her blue ones, she shot at the dark and blurted,

"Retail?"

The corners of his lips quirked up. "Anyone ever tell you're cute when you think. You pout and furrow"

"Hey! Focus, you perv!"

"Alright, alright!" He sobered up. "The family business was the mob."

Isabelle was ready to punch his shoulder but from the set of his lips, she realized he wasn't kidding.

"You're serious," she stated lamely.

"Like cancer. And don't get carried away. Nothing like the Godfather or Tony Soprano. My dad was the head of a small Irish mob in the Bronx. Petty criminals and the like." He let out a deep breath. "Most of the members of dad's side of the family never held an honest job in their lives. My mom didn't want that life for us. She did her best to shelter us from it but they were family, you know. She couldn't keep us away from our father and our siblings."

"Must been rough."

He nodded lazily. "That's why I'm good with guns. And fending for myself. Typical Tuesday afternoons." He turned back to Isabelle. "What was the question that started all this?"

"The bar," she told him with a smile.

"Hm, ah, yes, The Bar. Uncle Jason was mom's eldest brother. It was his last ditch effort to get me away from dad's way of life. They weren't worried about Sasha, she went to into nursing."

"Did it work?"

"For a while. Then aliens invaded earth and blew the place to smithereens."

A laugh bubbled into her mouth. "It's so surreal, even after all this time."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "Feels like I'm in a Spielberg movie and any minute the director's gonna yell cut. But I keep waking up and nothing's changed."

Isabelle rested her cheek on her knees, all of a sudden weary. Shane had aptly described the feelings rattling in her body. It was like she bathed in adrenaline every day, always just inches away from the edge, a heavy dark cloud constantly looming over her head. Oh, what she wouldn't give for one day of her old life. She would gladly sell her to soul to devil, consequences be damn.

Her fingers trembled slightly, a direct effect of her mental frailty. This was a recent development. Along with the nightmares, the vomiting, the random bouts of depressions and the slight breaks from reality. She read about it once, way back when.

Post traumatic stress disorder.

When Chaz had suggested it, Isabelle had waved a hand dismissively, brushing it aside. But the symptoms kept popping up, frequently. She had no choice but to accept it bitterly. She often wondered why the others didn't suffer from it too. Or if they did, why weren't theirs as obvious as hers. It was bad enough of that they treated her like a baby for being the youngest among them, but to be seen as a weakling, as a burden and damaged, it was intolerable.

Clenching her hand, Isabelle reached for the journal with her other hand and turned to a new page. Maybe writing it all down would keep her mind at ease. Last thing the team needed was her slipping away from reality into gaga land.

_Sometimes I scare myself..._

* * *

When the sun was highest in the sky, scorching everything in sight, Bo drove back along with Sasha and ordered them to stop. It was rotation time. invigorated, Isabelle got to her feet and stretched her muscles, her joints popping. She grimaced slightly at the tight, pulling sensation she felt on her injured leg and arm.

Sasha climbed into the truck bed with her medical kit, passing Isabelle as she jumped off and headed to the front of the car. Bo was leaning against the rolled down window, head bent low as he spoke to Danny. Expletives swirled around the open air of the fields that surrounded them on both sides. Shane cursed like a sailor when he was in pain.

Isabelle tapped Bo on the shoulder. The big man who vaguely reminded her of a grizzly with his barrel chest and thick neck watched her curiously. She hardly sought him out and it wasn't that she was scared of him. Okay, maybe just a little but Bo wasn't remotely friendly. He spoke only when necessary, and when asked questions that required yes or no, he settles for head shakes and nods. If he feels specially happy that day, a guttural grumble accompanies the nods.

"I wanna be on the scouting," she said with all the conviction she could muster. "I'm tired and bored from sitting on my ass all day."

He gave her a once-over, cold and detached. "What about your injuries?"

"They were just scratches," she lied. They were deep but he didn't have to know. Under other circumstances, she would be bumped out by the fact that her flawless body would be scarred for life but the point was moot in this alien infested planet.

Danny snorted from inside the car. Bo cut his eyes to him and then back to her. "Are you certain you can handle it?"

She nodded vigorously, fighting to keep the smile from her face. "Yeah. I've never been better, boss."

"Fine. Trade places with Sasha. But you'll flank."

She didn't let that damper her mood. She thanked him and rushed to inform Sasha. She took it well. Her brother...not so much. Isabelle winked at him playfully and straddled the rusty bike. It was old but Chaz had gotten it to run under five minutes. As if she summoned him with her thoughts, he approached her.

"You don't look happy to see me on the bike," she stated flatly.

"What would make you think that?"

"You're brow is furrowed."  
"I'm squinting," he told her in a leveled tone. "Because of the sun. I'm squinting not furrowing my brow. And are you sure you can do this?" He kicked the tire with his booted foot. "Ride a bike, I mean?"

"It was just a scratch," she said in an exasperated tone.

Chaz didn't dignify it with a response. He only raised on eyebrow, wordlessly wondering if she took him for a fool. He gave her shoulder a firm squeeze and a smile before walking away. Isabelle followed him with her eyes with a smile of her own. He revved the engine of his bike, signaled to Bo and then tore down the empty stretch of road. Soon Bo followed him. Danny pulled after them and Isabelle kicked off the stand and drove after them.

The solitude of driving a motorbike was exactly what she needed. The wind blowing in her face, the soft constant purring of the engine offering a certain level of comfort. Apart of the heavy clanking of the Chevy, it was quiet, serene, almost peaceful. It contrasted heavily with their reality.

It must have been at least two hours when she spotted Bo making his way back to them, the wheels of his bike spitting gravel and dust behind him. She stopped along with Danny, wondering where Chaz was.

Apparently Bo had the same question.

"Wait, what do you mean where is he?" Shane asked from the trunk.

Bo ran a hand over his face. "We seperated about an hour ago. The road branches out in two, we each took one. Mine lead straight to loads of them aliens."

"What?"

"When I didn't find him, I assumed he returned to you guys."

Dread stirred in the pit of Isabelle's stomach. She clasped her fingers tightly to keep the tremors at bay.

"He isn't here," Isabelle spoke, marveling at the calmness she spoke in while a hurricane raged inside her. "He could just be running late. Or he could be hurt." She turned the key and the bike came to life. The others were staring at her. "What?" she yelled defensively. "I'm going. Chaz needs me."

Sasha opened her mouth to probably argue that in the off chance that Chaz was really injured, she would be better suited to help him but Isabelle didn't give any of them a chance. She tore down the street, away from them, away from their shouts and logical plans of action.

Some part of her knew she was being reckless. That running in blind could get her killed too. But...fuck logic, okay. Chaz was missing. Chaz was probably hurt. And they expect her to sit tight while the grown ups do the search party. Nah-uh.

Besides, Chaz was _her_ friend, _her_ partner. Chaz and Isabelle were a team before they met up with the others. She wouldn't forsake him now. Not when she owed him her life. Even if she wasn't grateful for it most days, she was still had the decency to know what she owed him.

So she was going to get him. Or die trying.

Isabelle slowed down when she approached the fork in the road that Bo mentioned. Less than a minute later, he caught up with her, his expression unreadable. He stopped beside her and fished something out of his pocket. A grenade. He tossed it to her. Isabelle caught it effortlessly and stuffed in the pocket of her jacket.

"I'm not gonna apologize," she told him softly, avoiding his eyes.

Bo gave her a gruff , "Wasn't expecting it." Then. "Here, you'll need it."  
He was holding out a shot-gun. Isabelle's eyes widened, never having fired a shot-gun before. She grabbed it and slung it over her shoulder. She could internally freak out about it later.

"Which way, bossman?"

He pointed to the left and she flanked him from behind, her eyes and ears focused sharply to the surroundings. The empty fields of green gave way to rumbles of what used to be buildings and streets with dead automobiles. A distant part of her brain wondered if they could salvage any of them.

Bo cut off his engine abruptly. She gave him a look. He motioned to her bike. She killed it and got off.

"Look," he told her, pointing a finger at another bike. Chaz's bike.

"So he's around here. Somewhere."

Isabelle glanced around, looking for a possible hiding place. Bo had moved to the bike and checked it.

"Outta gas," he informed her. He straightened to his full height. "Probably went looking for some. I would."  
Isabelle nodded at his reasoning. It was also easier to think that way.

"So what, he walked to the nearest gas station and hope it hasn't run dry."

Bo stayed silent for sometime. Isabelle's worries started to show when her body deceived her by sending small tremors through her. She shoved her hands in her pockets, clenching them.

"No," he finally said. If he saw her nervousness, he did a pretty good job hiding it. "The gas station is a long shot. He'd have more chances if he hit the stores."

She nodded again at his reasoning.

In silence, the two of them prowled the street, keeping their eyes out for semi-rundown shops. There was no sign of Chaz in the stores in the vicinity of his bike. So they ventured further into the Ghost Town. This neighborhood had two big stores. Right across from each other.

"You take one. I take one," Isabelle suggested hopefully.

"I don't think splittin' up is a good idea."

_Yeah. Especially since you don't know how to operate the shot-gun_ the annoying, logical voice in her head supplied.

But she countered with, "It's daylight, Bo. No aliens in sight. I'll quickly run in and out. Hopefully with Chaz."

Worry lines appeared on his forehead. "Fine. If you see anything suspicious, fire a warning shot and run for the bikes."

"Sir, yes, sir!" she bellowed in mock salute. Bo cracked a small smile, dipped an invisible hat and crossed the street. After watching him disappear inside the store with a final wave, she opened the door to the store.

She took in a shaky breath, sent a silent prayer to whatever God was watching down on her and gripped the shot-gun, which felt as foreign as an extra arm to her. She entered quietly, her booted feet barely making any sound. Dead silence greeted her.

Isabelle wasn't sure if that was something to be grateful for or scared shitless of. Steeling herself, she walked in further, taking in half-empty shelves of produce and the littered linoleum floor. She made an extra effort to not step on the wrappers and alert her presence. She cleared aisle after aisle, gun leveled and finger pressed lightly against the trigger. Her heart sank with every step. No sign of anything living, human or otherwise.

A year ago she was the captain of the girl's field hockey team. Her only worries were homework and her relationship with her then boyfriend. Now her biggest fear was whether she would come out alive from this seemingly harmless convenience store. She laughed silently to herself and wiped the droplets of sweats that had gathered near her hair-line.

There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere, a slight breeze cutting through the thick, humid air. Instinctively, Isabelle ducked low and watched through the shelves as the door fell back, closing without making a sound.

_Someone is in here!_

Heart rate sped up and the familiar rush of adrenaline washed over her, heightening her senses. The rhythmic sounds of footsteps assured her that it wasn't one of the aliens. Standing straight, Isabelle walked in the general direction of the footsteps but stopped when another pair sounded from the opposite direction.

_Two humans. Probably Chaz and Bo,_ she thought.

The metallic _click,_ and the cold muzzle of the gun pressed against her back told her how very wrong she was. Bo and Chaz would greet her with smiles and maybe lectures, not with a gun.

In the days that immediately followed the invasion, the little humans who managed to survive battled out for the remaining resources available. Instead of coming together and helping each other out, people literally killed for food and water. Isabelle had been in one too many fights but if it weren't for Chaz, she would have died thirty times over. Like everything else about her life, he took it upon himself to teach her the basic fighting skills.

Chaz heavily stressed on the element of surprise.

Not thinking twice about or giving herself a chance to chicken out, Isabelle dropped low, grabbed the long rifle with her hand, ripping it away from her assailant. She came face to face with a young blonde girl who had wide surprised eyes. Isabelle brought the butt of the shot-gun and slammed it against her face. The girl let out a whimper before crashing to floor, clutching her mouth.

Isabelle didn't have a lot of time to compartmentalized her feelings. But she managed to squeeze in a bit of guilt as she jumped over the girl and raced down the store. Aiming the gun at the ceiling, she set of two warning shots, the roar of the gun-fire echoing in the store.

So did the bitch whose nose she had broken as she yelled, "Get her!"

It had completely slipped her mind that blondie wasn't on her own. Cursing under her breath, Isabelle made it to the front of the store, the door just within her reach when someone tackled her from behind and sent her crashing hard against the floor, the weight of the person knocking the air out of her lungs. The shot-gun flew out her hands, sliding away from her.

"Stop it! Stop it! I'm not gonna hurt- ow!"

Isabelle jerked her arms around until they connected to some part of the man who was straddling her back. But he grabbed her wrists and pinned them on either side of her head. She turned her face so that her cheek rested on the dirty floor, in hope of catching a glimpse of the man.

"Look, if you just stay still, I swear we won't hurt you." The man's voice was soothing, trusting and vaguely familiar to her ears. "We are not the enemy. You hear, we are not the enemy!"

"Okay," Isabelle said, her voice cracking. She swallowed and tried again. "Okay. Just let go of me."

He released his firm grip and got to his feet. Isabelle got on her all fours, whimpering at the burning sensation on her left leg. Great, she pulled the stitches. But the feeling she couldn't shake was the distinct feeling that she knew the man, or at least the voice that belonged to the man.

"Are you hurt?"

There was a clear path to the door, unguarded and oh so close. If she was lucky enough, she could make a break for it. She glanced subtly over her shoulder,her hair providing a curtain. The man had a shot-gun in one hand and the other outstretched to her. Isabelle's eyes found his face and they widened. She was certain they could have dropped out of their sockets.

Familiar. Of course he was familiar.

"Mr. Mason," she croaked, her voice shaking in disbelief. It was his turn to be shocked. He searched her face for anything he could identify. Isabelle stood up, ignoring her injured leg and faced the man who had been in her life for over a decade.

She could hear the sound of him sucking in air. He pressed trembling fingers against his lips. "Bells," he spoke hesitantly, testing her nickname on his tongue. "Isabelle."

She nodded and smiled at him. "One and only."

"Oh God!"

Isabelle wasn't sure who took that first step, but what she was sure of was that they met halfway and embraced each other. She fisted the back of his ratty coat, burying her face in his chest while he patted her head, muttering a litany of _thank Gods_, _Bells, _and_ it's okay. _

"Dad? Dad, what's going on?"

Her spine stiffened at yet another voice from her past. Mr. Mason stepped back but still clutched onto her arms tightly.

Dark hair. Hazel eyes. Lips pressed into a thin line in frustration and worry. He didn't change much since she last saw him. Except that he seemed a little harder, edgier, dirtier.

Hal Mason.

He studied her with the same fascination, eyes roaming and never staying one place. Slowly a smile broke through his face and then a laugh of pure joy and he too, like his father gathered her in his arms, effortlessly spinning in her in circles.

"You're alive," he whispered, pressing his forehead to her. "You're really here." He set her down and held her hands. "You're really here."

Isabelle could feel the pressure behind her eyes growing. _Don't cry. Do not cry._ "Yeah. I'm really here. Alive and well."

He interlaced their fingers, a wide grin on his dirt caked face. "But how..."

The rest of his words was drowned by a shoot out just outside the store. All the windows shattered, sending shards of glasses into the air like confetti. And Isabelle couldn't stop the painful whimper when a bullet ripped through her flesh and her legs gave away.

The relief in finding a piece of her old life evaporated in the ensuing chaos.

Life was a fickle bitch.

* * *

**A/N: I think that's the longest chapter I've ever written. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**I wanna give a shout out to everyone who's read, reviewed, favorited and followed my story.**

**I love ya'll.**

**Constructive criticism much appreciated. Also, I'm not usually confident with my dialogues. I dunno why, but I agonize over them. Let me know if they sound realistic or not.**

**xoxoxoxoxoxo**


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